


Nori's little secret

by raiyana



Series: The Reader Inserts [18]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M, Tumblr: ImaginexHobbit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-13 18:31:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11765850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raiyana/pseuds/raiyana
Summary: A small collection of interconnected drabbles featuring Nori/you.This was written as a "Let me tell you about Nori"-thing which remains the framework as you tell the story of your life with the Dwarf they call Nori.Imagine:Sharing a prison cellpost-barrel ride hair caremutual bizarra hairstyle = instant attractionweird nicknamesbailing Nori outconfessing that he has stolen your heart and him offering you his in return.





	1. Kindness in unexpected places

**Author's Note:**

> I've become utterly bored with writing Y/N (I always read it as literally "Your Name") so in this, your name is Brynhilda, Bryn for short.

The Elves had chucked you in a cell, taking away what was left of your outerwear after having been captured by Goblins, chased by Orcs and sundry other mishaps. They probably did it to make you feel cold and miserable, but you knew better. Dwarrow were hardier than that, and in these stone cells you’d be miserable, aye, but you’d not be cold. You wondered if Nori was close enough to speak to, worried about him coping with being locked up; something he never did well – even back in Ered Luin, where his jailers were unlikely to beat him for crimes he may or may not have committed. You didn’t think the Elves were prone to physical violence – even with Beorn’s warnings in mind – but Nori’s memories of other jails were bound to come to the fore, even if he wasn’t being attacked inside his cell.

“Nori?” you called, suddenly fearful.

“Yes?!” he replied, sounding closer than you had thought. Forcing your hand through the gap in the bars – uncomfortable but doable – you waved.

“Can you see me?”

“I’m in the next cell,” he chuckled, and suddenly you felt better about the whole situation. If Nori was near you, at least you could distract him from your immediate surroundings. “You are well, amrâlimê?” he asked, his voice low. You didn’t know if you could be overheard by the Company – or the Elves! – but the endearment warmed your heart.

“I am,” you whispered back, leaning against the bars closest to his cell. “Will you be well, though, husband?” you asked, worry creeping into your voice. Nori laughed it off, but you knew him well enough to hear the slight tremor of unease in his voice.

“I have you, don’t I?” he quipped. “Even an Elven prison is bearable if you are with me.”

He sounded confident, but you did not wholly believe him. Instead, you began to plot ways to distract him.

 

The first nights, there was no problems, Nori slept soundly, and you did not wake to hear any small sounds that told you he was having a nightmare.

 

The days were fine, when Nori was awake – you spent most of your time talking, sometimes to the other Dwarrow, who were further along the block, but most often to each other. You had always had a way with words – you doubted Adad’s highly paid tutors had ever imagined that their training would be put to use in an Elven cell – and you spent hours spinning fantasies in husky whispers towards Nori’s cell. Teasing your husband was always fun – even if the teasing usually led to a kind of fun you couldn’t really have in this place – you missed his touch, his skilled fingers sliding into your body.

“You are an evil, evil, EVIL dam, do you know that?” Nori gasped, listening to your description of riding him in his cell, being his merciless jailor intent on corrupting his innocence – Nori had snorted at that, fairly sure he hadn’t been innocent for longer than he’d known you, but he’d gone along with it – spinning out the scene in his head, the way it might have looked if you’d been playing this game in your own bedroom. At least, you imagined he was doing that, as you were, randomly interrupted by breathy moans you couldn’t hold back as you played with yourself. In the cell beside yours, Nori was probably doing the same, you thought, the fantasies an attempt to exhaust him, make his mind forget where you were.

 

The fifth night was not so serene. You woke, groggily, at the sound of Nori’s whimpers. You had both fallen asleep against the metal bars, a lumpy pillow your only comfort.

“Nori!” you hissed, in the tone that usually woke him. You wished you could shake him, but – though you had tried – the cells were constructed in a way that prevented you from even reaching his hand through the bars. He didn’t wake. The cries got louder, attracting the attention of your guards; a young-looking Elf with brown hair came down to look. You wondered how many centuries he had lived, as he looked at Nori with a glimmer of compassion in his hazel eyes. “Please,” you whispered. “Let me go to him.” Looking at the Elf, who seemed torn, you did your best to look non-threatening.

“But…” the guard seemed indecisive for a moment, “you are a lady-dwarf, are you not?” you wondered how he could tell, and why it mattered to him.

“And _he_ is my husband,” you heard yourself hiss, when the guard’s question was followed by a low scream of fear from Nori. The guard seemed torn, searching your hands for some reason. _Proof,_ you thought, reminded of a long-ago lesson about Elves and wedding rings, _he is looking for proof_. Pulling your marriage braid free of the spire on top of your head where the bead had been hidden for so long, you showed him the small mark that matched the one in Nori’s hair – the mark of his family. Your own mark was carefully concealed in one of his peaks, but this mark could be easily seen in the braid that hung from his chin. “See?” you whispered at the Elf, whose eyes were old and kind with it, unlike the ones you had seen on a forest floor. He nodded once, looking around himself; looking for other guards who had been alerted by the noise Nori was making, trashing in his cell. With another nod, he unlocked the door, letting you out. For a moment, you stood there staring at each other. Then he silently unlocked Nori’s door for you.

“What is your name, dwarf?” he asked, blocking your way into the cell.

“Brynhilda,” you replied and he let you pass. Falling to your knees beside Nori, you shook him gently, humming bits of old lullabies and hugging him to your chest. “Hush, love, hush,” you whispered into his hair, “I am here.” Nori’s screams petered off into whimpers as he jolted awake, burying his face against your middle and gulping in large lungfuls of air. Looking up at the sound of the bars closing once more, you smiled at the guard. “What’s your name, elf?”

“Meludir,” he replied, with a light bow, “at your service.”

“I will remember you, Meludir,” you swore. With a final nod between you, the guard was gone, leaving you to rock Nori gently as his dreams left him. You never realised that Thorin’s snores had cut off and silenced at some point, the King hearing every word you spoke.


	2. The truth exposed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imagine helping Nori with his hair after the barrel ride

Laketown was dingy. The general griminess and fish smell, however, matched the general state of the Company. After riding in barrels down rapids, being covered in fish, and making your way into a house through an actual _toilet_ , you looked more than a little grubby and probably smelled as good as you looked. Silently bemoaning the state of your hair, the usual soft brown waves and careful plaits horribly tangled and half-undone; a project that would take ages to sort out. Sharing a glance of commiseration with Nori, whose hair was just as elaborate as yours, you accepted the offer of a comb and brush from Bard’s daughter.

“You do mine, I’ll do yours?” you offered, holding the comb towards the Thief. Only looking at Nori, who had long-since mastered his facial reactions, you missed the astonishment on the faces of the Company who heard your low words. Nori just nodded, turning his back and taking a seat on the bench beside you. With a shrug, you straddled the bench, beginning to brush out the drooping peak on his right side. Nori’s swift fingers were carefully undoing the plaits that kept his long locks manageable, undoing the braids in his beard too. Starting at the bottom, you carefully brushed out the bottom length, working your way slowly up Nori’s red-brown hair, trying not to tug too hard. Around you, the Company were watching in silence, even the Men had stopped asking questions, suddenly aware that _something_ was going on. When Nori began to comb out his beard, you moved to his other side, finally catching sight of Dori’s scandalized face. Giving him a mischievous smirk in return, you went back to your work, pressing your knee firmly against Nori’s thigh. The Thief patted it gently, smiling at you before he returned to his untangling task.

“All done,” you smiled, leaning in to kiss his cheek. Nori turned his head, catching your lips with his own. Dori made a peculiar sound at the sight. Nori grinned at you.

“Your turn, amrâlimê,” he said, twirling his finger to make you turn. Giving him your back, you smiled at the Company who were collectively staring at the two of you. Dori was slowly turning beet red.

“I suppose this is where we tell you we got married more than a year ago?” you asked, smirking at Bilbo’s baffled expression.

“Married?!” Dori shrieked. You winced, the sound making Nori pull on your hair. Dwalin was collapsing in paroxysms of laughter against Thorin, who actually managed a small smile in response. You raised an eyebrow at Dori. Behind you, Nori smirked at his brother. Ori burst into tears, falling into your arms and sobbing against your shoulder.

“Ori?” you asked, a little concerned. Nori reached around you, wrapping his arm around Ori’s shaking shoulders. Ori kept bawling, and, honestly, you were beginning to feel quite unwelcomed by Nori’s brothers. Not telling them had been your idea, wanting to get to know Ori and Dori for yourself – and for them to know you as a person, rather than a sometimes-customer and noble lady. Now, you were beginning to regret that choice.

“You got married… and you didn’t tell us?” Dori asked, sounding devastated. You hugged Ori, who was muttering something into your shoulder that slowly became a repetition of the Khuzdul word for ‘sister’. You relaxed slightly, patting his back. At least Ori still liked you.

“Dori, I-” Your Nori began, but Dori silenced him with a hand.

“You got married, Nori…” he repeated, still looking like someone died, “and you never _told_ us.”

“I told him not to!” you blurted, making Dori swivel his mithril head towards you.

“I agreed,” Nori replied calmly, kissing your nose when you turned to scowl at him. This was exactly what you didn’t want: creating a rift between the brothers, a rift Nori had only just managed to repair after staying away from Dori and Ori for five long years. “I wanted you to know Brynhilda for _herself_ , Dori, I wanted you to like her, without thinking you had to because she was my wife.” Dori did not reply, turning on his heel and marching into the other room. You stared after him, silently.

“That…could have gone better,” you mumbled. Nori hummed agreement, but made no effort to move to follow him, instead taking your hair in his deft hands once more, skilfully re-plaiting your hair in an easy-to-undo braid that would keep it out of your way until you could wash your hair properly, get the fish smell out.

“I’m glad,” Ori said, smiling sunnily. You couldn’t help but return his happy expression. “I was telling Nori to court you weeks ago, when we were at Beorn’s,” he laughed. You blushed.

“Really?” You glanced back at your husband, who gave you that heart-stopping unrepentant trademark grin of his.

“Well, I was trying to make it look like I fancied you,” he admitted with a casual shrug, “I didn’t think Dori would let me get away with hugging you like that again,” Nori continued, slightly sheepish.

“No, Dori probably wouldn’t,” you sighed, remembering the way he had held you on the Carrock, both of you trembling with relief that you were _alive_. Leaning back against Nori’s strong frame, you kissed his cheek gently, wrinkling your nose at the pungent odour of fish that clung to his beard.

“Dori likes you,” Ori swore, trying to cheer you up. You smiled.

“I know. He just doesn’t like it that we lied to him,” you sighed.

“Honestly, it’s probably more the fact that he didn’t get to plan the ceremony or be a part of the whole thing,” Nori replied pragmatically. “Maybe we’ll do it properly when we reclaim Erebor,” he laughed, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug. “We could actually invite more than two people…”

“You’d marry the ‘evil dam’ all over again?” you laughed, clearly recalling him calling you that at one point in the Mirkwood cells – you might have been whispering naughty fantasies in his ear at the time, your cells next to each other, but it had still happened!

“Masmûnayê, I’d marry you ten times over,” Nori promised, sealing it with a kiss that made you blush when you heard Kíli and Bofur stage-whispering ‘Awww’s at each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> masmûnayê - my jewel-lady


	3. First meetings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imagine Nori being attracted to you instantly because like him, you too have a bizarre hairstyle.   
> Imagine calling Nori “Starfish” because of his hair and him not minding it.

Nori had gone to speak with Dori, even if you didn’t know what he’d say to soothe his brother’s hurt feelings. Dori loved him, you knew, and Nori loved Dori too, but sometimes it was easier for the both of them to love each other from apart.

“How did you even meet Lady Brynhilda, Nori? Her adad is the Blacklock envoy, Mahal’s Beard, that’s _not_ the circles you travel!” Dori moaned, more than a little pale. Nori didn’t want to know what kind of sordid circumstances Dori was envisioning to put that look on his face.

 

…

 

The first time he saw her, Nori noticed the hair before anything else. She was tall, for a Dwarf, though not as tall as Dwalin. The hair, however, oh, _Maker_ , the _hair_. Almost a foot tall – twice the height of his own peakiest peak, in fact and he wondered _how_ – it rose in a spire, a tower made of spiralling braids and twists, like a conch shell. The colour was a deep brown with reddish highlights, and held with silver clasps decorated with shiny mother-of-pearl slivers. A connoisseur of pretty baubles, Nori realised quite quickly that the silver was actual silver, and the chain and pendant around her neck were also silver, a pretty thing for a pretty lady. Her beard was braided skilfully, an elaborate weave he thought even Dori would approve of; all in all, the dam looked like a noble lady. Her eyes were an almost purple colour, Nori thought, peering closely at her face as he passed her. He smiled, pleased when she smiled back. Less pleased when her fingers stopped him stealing her money, of course, but she simply wagged a finger at him, mouthing an amused ‘no, no’. Nori smirked. Instead of money – and he didn’t quite know why he did it, except that it seemed like the thing to do – he stole a kiss from her lips. In her surprise, she let go of his hand and with a final smirk, Nori was gone.

 

…

 

“Did you know Nori was your One from the beginning?” Ori, the romantic soul, asked. You laughed.

“No, I thought he was the cheekiest dwarf I’d ever met, completely brazen, and I ought to have called the guard on him!” you exclaimed, launching into the story of your first real kiss.

 

…

 

 _Cheeky dwarf_ , you thought, staring after the distinctive hair peaks of the dwarf who had just kissed you. Touching your lips, you wondered why you hadn’t cried out, not even when he attempted to lift your second money pouch – it was filled with nothing more than pebbles and a few coppers; not where you kept your real currency. _It was a nice kiss_ , you thought, surprising yourself. The dwarf was a thief at best, you shouldn’t _want_ to kiss him. Shaking your head, you continued to wander through the small marketplace, though none of the wares on offer caught your attention, your thoughts replaying the auburn-haired dwarf’s smirk over and over.

 

…

 

“See, I knew you always fancied me,” Nori whispered in your ear, pressing a kiss to your cheek from behind and interrupting the story. “Of course, we didn’t properly meet until a few years later, when Bryn here was slumming it in the Woolly Bear,” he added philosophically. Kíli was now staring wide-eyed at you. He and Fíli had never even been allowed near the Woolly Bear, and you were the daughter of foreign nobility. He tended to forget that you had arrived in Thorinuldûm only a decade before Fíli was born, when you were almost 50 years old.

“I think you’ll find that _you_ were the one who fancied me,” you countered hotly, making him laugh and kiss you again, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as he nudged Ori down the bench.

“Oh, aye, raklûna, but then I never denied that!” He crowed, dodging when you swatted half-heartedly at him. “And now I don’t have to hide when I kiss you!” Clearly, he had mended fences with Dori somehow, you thought, allowing him to kiss you more passionately than he would have otherwise done in front of Ori.

“So, you went to the Woolly Bear,” Kíli prodded, slightly envious. You nodded.

“Yes, I was just turned 79 by then, a decade past my coming of age, actually, and I fancied a drink.”

 

…

 

You had no need to work in Thorinuldûm, being supported generously by King Ranvé of the Orocarni along with your parents, but you had been schooled in diplomacy since before you could walk, knowing that one day the task of being your King’s envoy somewhere would fall to you as it had done your adad and his amad before him, back through the years of your line. That did not mean you did not find trade negotiations terribly annoying, though immensely satisfying when they managed to be resolved, and utterly exhausting at times. Enjoying the freedom of an adult still, even years after coming of age, you decided to visit a tavern you’d heard of in the less affluent part of town. The Woolly Bear was said to be the birthplace for many a new song, and you’d actually considered it a reward for slogging through the meeting with Balin all day.

You spotted the hair from the door, the cheeky dwarf from the marketplace sitting across the taproom, nursing a tankard, but looking like he had come alone. Even years after your first meeting, you recognised the peaks of his hair. Some sort of mischievous streak made you cross the floor, waving for a drink from the blonde barmaid.

“Evening, Mister Starfish,” you greeted, sitting down next to the dwarf, who stiffened for a moment but then laughed. “Not out kissing young ladies tonight?” you continued cheekily, when he turned and recognised you. Returning your cheek with a grin of his own, he gave you a seated bow.

“I like it, Mistress Spire,” he replied, winking cheekily at you. You lifted your tankard in greeting.

 

That night, you spent hours talking to him, continuing to refer to him only as Starfish.

 

It was more than a year later that you actually learned his name, and by then he had already stolen his way into your life, becoming one of your best friends in your new home.

Adad wasn’t best pleased that you’d made friends with a thief, but Amad convinced him to allow you to continue spending time with Nori, claiming it could only be good for their studious and somewhat sheltered daughter to see a bit of real life. Eventually, the new Blacklock envoy had caved under the combined onslaught of his wife and daughter.


	4. A friend in need

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imagine being the one to bail Nori out, and him having to tell you why

“You’re really married to _Nori_?” Bilbo whispered, later, when the Company had drifted off to find beds for the night.

“I really am,” you said, bemused at the sheer amount of disbelief in the Hobbit’s voice. You didn’t think the two of you had been all that discrete, sneaking off together here and there to steal kisses and more when no one was watching. Of course, Nori was a master at stealth, and you were no slouch in that department either, but still.

“How did that even happen?” Fíli wondered. “I mean, Nori doesn’t exactly seem like husband material. At least, not the kind of husband a noble dam would take…” he blushed, embarrassed and looking slightly guilty for the inadvertent insult. You chuckled.

“Well…” you said. “It began with Nori being thrown in jail.”

 

…

 

It was an ordinary day, really, when the Guard knocked on the door to your house.

“Lady Brynhilda?” the brusque Guardsdwarf asked, when you opened the door, seemingly surprised to find himself at your house. “Do you know a Nori, son of Arnóra?” he continued, even more surprised when you nodded cautiously. You did indeed know Nori. “He’s been arrested,” the Guard continued, now disinterested.

“What’s the bail?” you sighed, needing to know how much silver to bring to procure Nori’s release. If he had sent the Guard to you, it meant he did not think Master Dori would come and fetch him anymore, making your heart ache for the two brothers both. You knew Nori missed his kin, but you also understood why Dori didn’t want to be associated with a criminal, especially with Ori getting such a good position with Master Balin; it could only hurt the lad’s chances at a good life to have Nori in it. Even _Nori_ knew that, though he was not feeling magnanimous about the way Dori had gone about purging him from their lives. Their last argument had been bad – very bad – even for a pair of brothers who argued more than a pair of old hens.

“20 pieces of silver,” the Guard replied, nearly crowing. He obviously didn’t think you had that much money lying around, and he’d have been right… if not for Nori and his ‘emergency funds’. With a sigh, you closed the door, moving to the small box with the false bottom that held enough silver and copper to buy Nori’s release twice over. He had caches like it in several places in the city, though you didn’t think Dori knew about the one in his house, to be used for bail or bribes or other necessary expenditures Nori’s lifestyle might bring about. In his own way, your friend was a very conscientious dwarf, you thought. Scooping up the silver, you stowed it away at your side, concealing the pouch swiftly. Swinging you cloak around your shoulder you opened the door again, facing the confused Guard who had been about to return to the small jail and tell Nori there’d be no bail coming.

“Shall we be going, gentlemen?” you asked tartly, stepping over the small gutter in front of your house.

 

* * *

 

“What did you do this time?” you asked, when all the paperwork had been signed and you were walking down the street with Nori beside you, looking a bit the worse for wear.

“Didn’t actually do anything!” Nori defended himself, scowling at you. He had been forced to undo the plaits in his hair and eyebrows due to being covered in something sticky – you thought you smelled apples and sugar when he hugged you – so his scowl was more akin to a droopy owl, and the sight only made you laugh, pulling him back towards your small house. “Wasn’t my fault there was a brawl in the tavern, _I_ tried to stop it.”

“Course you did,” you agreed calmly, not believing a word. Your Nori would have been dealing out more than one pointy elbow if he was caught up in a tavern brawl. Nori kept scowling blackly. “Now, go fetch a bucket of water from the well and I’ll put a kettle on so we can get whatever _that_ is out of your hair.” Stoking the fire, you didn’t notice Nori staring at you, and when you turned, he had obediently marched himself down to the well. You had one bucket of water in the kitchen, but had a feeling he’d not object to a proper scrub. Fetching a small cake of lavender scented soap and a washrag, you waited for the kettle to boil. It never occurred to you to send him back to wherever he actually lived – knowing Nori it was most likely a collecting of booby-trapped bolt-holes – and you were rooting through your pantry when he returned, rustling up some bread and cold meats.

“Water’s here, Bryn,” he called.

“Good. Sit, eat,” you pointed at the table, setting a plate before him. “Are you injured?” Nori shook his head, his mouth full, and you moved to pour some of the warm and a bit of the cold water into a wash basin. “I’ll try to get this sticky mess sorted,” you swore, “but it’s not going to be easy.”

In the end, Nori had to lie the length of the table, his head over the edge and a wide basin of warm water on a chair underneath before you were able to get the sticky gunk out of his long locks. Humming quietly, you lathered up soak, scrubbing through his hair and massaging his scalp until Nori was little more than a sleepy puddle of contentment on your table. Rinsing away the lather, wringing out the water and towelling his hair almost dry, you got Nori to sit in a chair while you fetched a brush, beginning to comb out the long strands.

“Marry me,” he asked, sleepily. You stiffened. You knew that touching hair was something very private to your people, but you hadn’t considered Nori one of the ones to adhere to such a traditional view. Nori began to snore lightly, his head cradled in his arms on the table. Shaking your head, you quickly finished your task, unable to stop your fingers enjoying the feel of the soft strands.

 

Neither of you mentioned Nori’s sleepy proposition when he woke, though you continued to think about it, wondering what would have happened if you had said yes. It was the first time you wondered what it’d be like to have Nori kiss you – and mean it.


	5. Electricity and Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imagine telling Nori he’s stolen your heart and he refuses to give it back, but instead tells you he’ll give you his in return.

“I think I know when it started,” Thorin interjected suddenly, startling you as you hadn’t been aware that the audience had swelled to include most of the Company. “Nori was your ‘secret’,” he chuckled, “at my Ball.”

“Oooh, were you gossiping about me, you naughty thing?” Nori whispered, pinching your bum. You glared at him.

“I’m telling the story, Nori!” you hissed, but allowed him to divert your ire with a kiss. Blasted sneaky Dwarf always knew how to ameliorate your righteous anger, you grumbled, but kissed him back sweetly. “Well, yes, Thorin is right, it was the day of his Nameday Ball in 2936, five years ago.”

 

…

 

“Nori!” you complained, only just stopping yourself from stomping your foot like a toddler throwing a tantrum. “Give me back my hair clasps! I need them for the Ball!” Oh, the Ball. Dowager Queen Frís was throwing a ball in honour of Prince Thorin’s 190th Nameday, and all eligible ladies in Ered Luin were hoping to catch the Prince’s eye. Except you. However, you also knew that Amad would be more than disappointed if you did not show up – not that she expected you to fall for the darkhaired Prince-who-was-King, of course, but envoys had to appear at official occasions and that included their pretty daughters, you’d been told ever since you could remember. Knowing better than to test her Firebeard temper, you had ordered a new gown, in a lush dark green that went well with your mahogany tresses and fair skin. Nori had been a great help there, claiming that his brother was the finest tailor in Thorinuldûm and you could only agree that Master Dori had created a fantastic frock. Your hair was piled on top of your head, several stilettos disguised as hair pins in easy reach and a few other important items such as lockpicks – Adad didn’t expect you to be kidnapped, it wasn’t Red Peak after all, where diplomacy and blackmail had walked hand in hand for centuries – that you’d never leave the house without. You were ready to go… as soon as Nori gave you back the pearl and emerald clasps he had nicked from your dresser while you got the dress on. Looking at yourself in the small mirror, you smiled, feeling pretty.

“Let me do it, Bryn,” Nori said quietly, popping in through the window behind you. His hands held the clasps, but it was the look in his eyes that made you turn around.

“Nori?” you asked, staring into his eyes, he looked oddly tortured.

“Let me do your hair, zarkhûna[1],” he repeated, holding the three clasps towards your hair. You blushed. It wasn’t as bad as letting him braid it all, but it _was_ still more of a statement than you’d thought he’d be comfortable making – even if you would be the only one who knew. Sinking down onto the seat before your vanity, you waved at him to go ahead, almost holding your breath as you felt his sure touch against the spire on top of your head. “You are beautiful,” he whispered, taking a step back. You thought your heart skipped a beat, but Nori was gone before you could turn around and ask him. Touching the fine clasps he had added to your hair, you smiled softly.

 

You floated through the ball, not even realising that you were dancing with Thorin until he asked you why you were so uncoordinated tonight – you were usually one of the few he didn’t mind partnering with, as you’ve never been prone to fawning over him or stepping excessively on his toes.

“What’s wrong, Lady Brynhilda? You seem out of sorts.” He frowned at you when you just smiled widely in return.

“I have a secret,” you told him, smirking. It was a look you’d learned from Nori, though he made it look sharper, more fox-like.

“Ahh, then I shall not pry.” Thorin replied gallantly. He’s a decent diplomat when he bothered; he often bothered with you, being a friend to Dís, and someone wholly uninterested in his crown. “If my sister has taught me aught, it is that a Lady’s secrets are her own until she chooses to share them.”

“Wise words to live by,” you remarked with a wry laugh, fully aware of Dís’ temper and strong opinions. Thorin joined you, twirling you easily across the floor. When the dance ended, he bowed, kissing your hand and handing you over to Dís, who seemed to be bursting with the need to gossip.

 

When you left the Ball that evening, Nori was outside, falling in step with you before you’d even left the lights of the doorway.

“Enjoyed yourself?” he asked, seeming a little subdued. You smiled.

“I did, yes,” you smiled, twirling around in the middle of the street, but Nori did not laugh like he usually did. “Thorin is a lovely dancer and Princess Dís is a good friend. The young princes managed _not_ to spill something sticky and/or colourful on my dress, so yes, I’d consider it a successful ball.” You didn’t say that you would have enjoyed it more if you could have danced with him, and Nori just grunted darkly in return. He did offer you his arm, an oddly gallant move you accepted with a light laugh.

“I told you that you were beautiful tonight,” he whispered; you nearly didn’t catch his words, “more beautiful than any of the other ladies, in fact.”

“Thank you, thatr-zantûn,” you laughed, buoyed by a night of joyful dancing and music. Unlocking your door, you waved him inside, intending to offer a cup of tea or something.

“It looked like you caught the Prince’s eye, at least,” Nori continued quietly, his odd mood finally breaking through your bubble. You turned away from the fire you’d been poking.

“Who, Thorin?” you asked dumbly. He nodded. You caught a flash of something in his grey eyes before he hid it. Waving it off, you laughed at the thought that for a moment he had looked…jealous. “He’s my friend, Nori, nothing more.”

“I’m your friend, too,” he replied, accepting the cup of tea in silence. You did not know what to say, busying yourself with your own cup.

 

After your tea was finished, Nori helped you undo the laces he had done up earlier – there were no lady’s maids in Thorinuldûm, and you didn’t actually need the help, but it had become tradition somehow over the past decade or so that Nori helped you undo laces while you babbled about whatever function you’d been at, feeding him titbits of gossip. When you began to yawn, he’d excuse himself and leave through your window; an old habit from the years that you had lived with your parents. Tonight, however, he had a distinct air of impatience, though he was always careful not to damage your clothes and you were silent and thoughtful. You didn’t feel like telling him about Lord This-and-that dancing with the married Lady what’s-her-face. Instead, you were trying to make sense of Nori himself, something never easy on the best of days and certainly no easier when you were still slightly tipsy from the drink at the Ball. When he had finished with the laces, Nori’s hands lingered at your waist, not close enough to touch, but close enough you felt the warmth of his palms hovering just out of reach. There was a sort of thrumming undercurrent in the room, you thought, staring at his shadowed face in your mirror. Nori sighed, turning to leave.

“Nori?” you asked, stopping him just before he reached your window. “Why do you always steal my things?”

“I like to see you all flustered,” he smirked, his eyes losing the haunted look for a moment as you glared at him.

“You always give them back.” You said, taking a step towards him, feeling suddenly bold. Perhaps it was the wine, or perhaps it was the way his eyes widened.

“I do,” he agreed, his back now against the window frame. You put your hands on either side of his hips, trapping him there. The reckless boldness continued urging you on.

“And my heart?” you asked, stepping up on tiptoes to press a kiss against his lips. “Will you give me back the heart you stole too?” He stared at you, speechless, for more than a minute.

“No!” he said, a bit too loudly, but your wince was lost as his mouth slanted across yours once more, his arms wrapping around your middle in a possessive hold. The kiss left you breathless, your hands travelling up from Nori’s shoulders to bury themselves in his soft hair. “But…” he darted in to peck your mouth again, before climbing up to sit in the window. “I will give you mine in return,” he said, winking at you and dropping into the darkness. You could hear him whistle a jaunty tune as he walked down the street.

 

 

[1] Spire-lady

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This may or may not be continued depending on whether I find applicable imagines/other inspiration. I am aware that there are unresolved plotlines, but this was never meant to be a properly finished story, so you're allowed to imagine what happens next... ;)


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